Abracadabra
by whatapotter
Summary: When Harry was seven years old, he and Dudley were invited to a costume party by a girl in their class. While Dudley wanted to be a soldier, Harry wanted to dress up as a Wizard. As you can imagine, that went down well.


**Soldier, Sailor… Wizard?**

Author Note: Kudos goes to Twisted Biscuit for this plot bunny!

**  
_When Harry was seven years old, he and Dudley were invited to a costume party by a girl in their class. While Dudley wanted to be a soldier, Harry wanted to dress up as a Wizard. As you can imagine, that went down well._**

* * *

"Mum!" screamed seven year old Dudley Dursley, as he arrived home from school. Shoving Harry off the doorstep just as the smaller boy had been about to enter the house, he charged into the hallway.

"Yes, Dinky Diddydums?" answered his mother, swooping into view and immediately pouncing on her son to peck him on the cheek.

Dudley grimaced and wiped furiously at the wet spot on his cheek, before reaching into his schoolbag and proudly producing a small envelope.

"I've been invited to a party!" he announced.

As expected, Petunia squealed and hugged him. "Always the popular one, my Diddy!"

"And it's a dress up party," Dudley continued, hitching up his already sagging trousers, which were fighting a losing battle to suspend themselves around the ever-increasing size of his posterior. "I'm going to go as a soldier!"

"Of course you are," cooed Petunia. "And Mummy's going to make you the best little soldiers outfit that's ever been seen!"

"I want a gun," Dudley ordered, pretending to take aim and shoot at the porcelain vase upon the hallway mantelpiece. "And I want a sword," he demanded, swishing his hand around as if pretending to grip the hilt of a sword and then stab an imaginary foe. Harry personally thought he looked like he was making a very bad audition to be a musical conductor, but then no one really wanted his opinion. "And I want a belt with bombs and lots of bullets, and a full soldier's uniform, and a hat and big boots and-"

"And Mummy will get you all that, don't you worry, darling," assured his mother, stroking his blond hair back. Dudley scowled, batted her hand away and rearranged his hairstyle. "You're going to be the most adorable little soldier ever."

"No, I'm not!" yelled Dudley, indignantly. "I'm going to be the meanest. I'm going to blow up anybody with a better costume than me!"

"Of course you are, darling," fretted his mother. "But that won't happen because Mummy and Daddy are going to make sure that _no one_ has a better costume than my little Dinkystar."

"Vernon," she continued, calling into the sitting room. "Vernon! Dudley's been invited to a costume party – come and see."

There was a grunt, a rather large bang, another grunt, a couple of wheezes and then finally Vernon Dursley lumbered into view, having extracted himself from the confines of a rather low set armchair. "Ah, good, good," he muttered, upon inspection of the invitation which he wife excitedly thrust into his hands, "knew my Dudley would make friends easily. You've got the Dursley charm running through your veins, son – unlike that freak," he grunted,

At that Dudley scowled and thumped the wall so hard that one of the pictures jumped completely off it, and fell with a rather large crash to the floor. Dudley smirked, feeling quite a lot better.

"He's been invited too," he grunted, and stamped his foot to get his opinion on that across – just for good measure.

Vernon scowled. "Well, it's obviously only because he lives with us, Dudders. Don't worry; no one would to invite him because they _liked _him. They just don't want to seem rude by only inviting one of you to the party."

Harry looked crestfallen. Dudley smirked triumphantly.

Aunt Petunia looked down her nose at him. "And I suppose you'll want a costume requiring lots of my precious time and effort to make – well, think again, boy. You'll have to make something up out of your old clothes, although I don't doubt you'll be ungracious about it as usual. I'll have my hands full making Dudley's special costume." She paused to regard him for a second. "What do you want to go as anyway, boy?"

At that, Harry's face lit up. "I want to be a wizard!"

Uncle Vernon's moustache twitched. Violently. That was the only warning Harry received, before a miniature explosion occurred.

"HOW DARE YOU MENTION SUCH AN ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!" Uncle Vernon roared, while Aunt Petunia snatched Dudley to her chest in horror.

"How dare you, you ungrateful cretin," his Uncle continued to roar, spit flying in all directions possible. "After all we've done for you! After all we've sacrificed! You little freaks are all the same – programmed from birth to be _abnormal_, after all we've tried to change you!"

Harry, shocked and startled, backed away until his back hit the wall, staring in horror at the raging bull he appeared to have unleashed. For Uncle Vernon did appear, at that very moment, particularly bull-like. He was making a peculiarly ferocious snorting sound through his nostrils, was turning a shade of burgundy that Harry had never seen before and appeared to be restraining himself from throttling Harry through the one tenacious thread that still constrained his temper.

Harry had no idea what he had done wrong, and in desperation, tried to think of a way out of the frightening situation he seemed to have unknowingly landed himself in. Feeling a sharp object dig into his thigh, his eyes lit up. Of course! His Aunt and Uncle would relax at once when they knew that Harry had already started on his costume, and therefore they wouldn't have to waste any time helping him.

Smiling in delight at his cleverness, Harry pulled a long, thin object out of his trouser's pocket and brandished it proudly at his Uncle. "But look Uncle Vernon – I even made myself a wand!"

Harry grinned, pleased with himself. He'd snapped the little twig from one of the branches at his school himself. With a dramatic little swish and flick, Harry jumped into the air, pointed his wand at the toaster, and shouted, _"Abracadabra!"_

At that precise moment in time, several things happened at once. A large cloud of purple smoke shot out of the end of Harry's fingertips, and was accompanied by a rather impressive noise which sounded something like the cross between a bag of popcorn exploding and a whoopee cushion being suddenly sat on by a rather overweight man. In reaction, Petunia Dursley shrieked in horror and swiftly dived behind the sofa. Vernon Dursley started to turn and interesting shade of puce, Harry started to realise that perhaps this hadn't appeased his Uncle after all, and the toaster neighed like a donkey before proceeding to promptly mutate into a turkey.

For one blessed moment, silence reigned supreme. Then the turkey made a goggling noise and flapped its wings in protest.

"Opps," gulped Harry.

"Coooool," breathed Dudley.

"CUPBOARD!" roared Uncle Vernon.


End file.
